Knight of Zandar: For honour
by kennotlah
Summary: There is a saying: Heroes are made by the times. Ivan of Zandar was in was an era of knights but it is also a dark era where greed and betrayal perverted even the holiest of causes. It is against this historical backdrop, we tell the story of Ivan's journey into knighthood and how it made him a noble Power Ranger.
1. Chapter 1

(A/N: This work aims to be a historical piece, however, a degree of artistic license may be taken)

Sypnosis: There is a saying: Heroes are made by the times. When discussing the topic about Ivan of Zandar, many may know that he was a knight in 13th century Europe who embodied the values of loyalty, duty, and chivalry. In this chapter, we tell of Ivan who was under the tutelage of Sir Wilfred of Ivanhoe, who was in the service of Richard the Lionheart until his untimely death. Following shortly after the death of Richard the Lionheart, the 13th century started with a disastrous Fourth Crusade which resulted in Christians slaying other Christians in the siege of Zara and the sack of Constantinople which weakened the Byzantine Empire to the point of no return. It is also the start of the crusades to the northern part of Europe. It is against this historical backdrop that we tell of Ivan's journey into knighthood.

* * *

 _In Power Rangers Dino Charge Episode 12: Knight after Knights_

After Riley opened his mouth, Ivan knew what the Power Rangers wanted. He was a little disappointed on the inside. They had given him a tour of their secret base and the interesting weapons that they were working on in order to dazzle him into joining them. All because they wanted him to join their team of Power Rangers. All just because he had the power of the Gold Ranger and the Gold Energem.

So Ivan said to them, "I am a knight of Zandar, when I pledge my loyalty, it is for life. I'm sorry I cannot make such a decision so hastily."

Thereafter he departed from their base. As soon as he left them, Ivan could not help but remember the past.

* * *

 _800 years ago. The Kingdom of_ Zandar _. Spring._

One day, Ivan was hunting deer in the forests near the north of Zandar. At that time, he was a squire to Sir Wilfred the Gentle who tutored him on the ways of a knight. From Sir Wilfred, Ivan learned to fight, to ride and to have courtly manners.

Now the two of them had been hunting for two hours without stopping to rest. They were tracking this elusive stag for seven leagues without success. Sir Wilfred the Gentle halted their hunting party so that the horses could rest. In frustration, Ivan brandished his sword and swung mightily, slicing apart a tree branch. Ivan exclaimed, "I simply cannot wait to be a knight, Sir Wilfred! To advance the banners of Zandar over the battlefield where swords will be drawn and glory to be won."

Sir Wilfred teased him, "My young squire, first you have to learn patience and catch the deer first. Tell me, how fares your skill with the bow?"

Ivan did not answer that. Sir Wilfred knew that Ivan was terrible with the bow. In fact, he said that if Ivan were to use a bow, his allies, not his enemies would be in danger. Hence, that was the whole reason they were on this hunting trip so that he could learn to shoot better. However, as fate would have it, they would not hunt for game that day.

It was around noon when three knights in white habits rode towards them. A large cross was embossed on their habits and each man carried a sword by his side. They looked to be seasoned warriors and men driven by a grand purpose.

Sir Wilfred the Gentle called out to them, "Do you come to us in peace, stranger? If your intentions are fair to the Kingdom of Zandar, you have our welcome. But if you should bear ill-will, I must warn you that you will find that our steel is sharp and our hearts resolute."

The knights came up to them and said, "Hail good sir, we come seeking Sir Wilfred of Ivanhoe. However. we come not with news of peace, but we do not bear any ill-will to thee. We have ridden far and long to ask him to take up arms in a crusade once again."

Sir Wilfred the Gentle said, "I am that Sir Wilfred you seek. But I am not that man anymore. These days they call me Sir Wilfred the Gentle. Good sirs, I see the insignia you wear, are you the Sword Brethren?"

Now in those days, The Sword Brethren was another name for the Livonian Brothers of the Sword. They were a fearsome military order founded by Bishop Albert of Livonia to sweeping through the north.

Then the first knight spoke, "We are indeed of the Sword Brethren. My name is Hermann Balk and with me are my two companions, George the Englishman and Dandolo the Venetian. We had ridden straight from Livonia when we heard that the Knight after knights lived in Zandar."

The Sword Brethren had sent Hermann Balk and his companions to find Sir Wilfred and recruit him for their wars in the north. They opened their bags and presented him with a thousand marks, a bag of rubies and a bar of gold.

Sir Wilfred the Gentle bowed deeply, "Noble strangers, you have come a long way, bearing great gifts and a most flattering offer. I invite you to rest at our humble lodgings and gladly speed you on your journey home. But I have no interest in fighting in your crusade. Or any crusade. I will not go with you as I am paid by the Kingdom of Zandar to teach young Ivan here. I am now a knight of Zandar."

The knights studied Ivan intently. They saw that he was lanky and young of no great importance.

Then the first knight, Balk let out a mirthful laugh. "Tis a jest, Sir Wilfred, are you content to be a mere tutor of young squires? There is a great cause to be fought, great spoils to be plundered and greater glory to be won," said Balk. With a sweet tongue, he talked of castles filled with gold and of pagan kings wearing armour made from pure gold. He spoke of the great mounds of gold, hoarded by the pagan Kings, waiting to be carried off by the brave men who would take it.

The talk of gold lit a fire in Ivan's imagination. He imagined himself as a knight decked in gold, wandering around the verdant forests of the north, slaying evil everywhere. Ivan thought to himself, who would be foolish enough to teach young squires? There was so much riches to be won, heaps of gold.

But Sir Wilfred the Gentle was unmoved.

The second knight, an Englishman who called himself George, after seeing the failure of Balk to persuade Sir Wilfred, his talk dwelt on walls and weapons and the mustering of men. He spoke of great alliances and glorious victories to be and the benevolent freedom that the Sword Brethren will bestow upon all. All that was needed was for a mighty knight like Sir Wilfred to join their noble cause and they could bring peace on earth.

Yet Sir Wilfred the Gentle was unmoved.

The third knight, a Venetian by the name of Dandolo, saw that ministrations of the two fell upon deaf ears. He thought to himself, if a man is not swayed by gold or glory, then he will pay heed to God. Then he pointed to the sky, saying: " _Deus Vult_."

Sir Wilfred the Gentle had a steely stare and he uttered in wrathful response, " _Non Serviam_ "

The Venetian cried out and made the sign of the cross, "Inconceivable! The devil's words! Coming out from the warrior who fought beside the Lionheart. Where is your honour? You may call yourself Sir Wilfred the Gentle, but I dub thee, Sir Wilfred the Coward."

Sir Wilfred gave the Venetian a glowering look, "The devil you say? How dare you lecture me on honour, you imp, when in your blood runs the fratricidal Venetian greed that led brother to slay brother at Zara!"

The Venetian knight reddened in anger and unsheathed his sword. Sir Wilfred drew his blade that was strapped to his back. It was an enormous broadsword, six feet long. Immediately, the rest of the Sword Brethren drew their blades and surrounded Sir Wilfred.

With a shout, Ivan rushed to Sir Wilfred's side with his bow drawn and an arrow aimed for the Venetian. There was a twang and a loud snap. The arrow flew far from the right, completely missing the Venetian and buried itself deeply in the tree. Ivan's bowstring had snapped in two and now his bow was useless.

"Impudent cur!" The Venetian raised his blade and brought it down upon Ivan's head. Ivan rolled away and sprang from the ground and over the heads of the Sword Brethren. His cape billowed from his back like the wings of a bat. From that day on, it would be a leap most renowned among the Greeks when they sieged Zandar. They dubbed him the Ptero Ippótis. The Winged Knight.

Sir Wilfred fended off Balk and George while Ivan wrestled with the Venetian. Luck and youthful vigour were on the side of the Zandarian. Ivan tossed the Venetian to the ground and then throttled him. Nearing death, the Venetian sued for mercy, but Ivan would not relent. Then, Sir Wilfred forbade the slaying of the Venetian; but Ivan despoiled him of a single bar of gold.

Now Balk was unwilling to suffer the death of a companion as they could not win Sir Wilfred to their cause. So he called for a truce, to stay any further violence. Then the Venetian cursed Ivan and Sir Wilfred by the throne of God, saying: "Go henceforth into sorrow, into betrayal, into a bitter long imprisonment and finally unto death." And so the Sword Brethren left in shame and went on their way while Ivan and Sir Wilfred went home. From that day on, they plotted not to let the insult to their honour go unanswered. However, Balk busied himself with affairs in the north while George busied himself with England's affairs. Only the Venetian would plague Ivan for years to come for besting him in combat.

It would be a few months later on a different hunting trip when Ivan asked Sir Wilfred why he would not join the Sword Brethren. Now one should understand that to a young squire in those times, there is nothing better than the glory of combat, the promise of great wealth and joining the great cause of liberation.

Sir Wilfred had a wistful look in his eyes, "Actually, I still think about the offer that was made to this very day." Ivan was surprised, but Sir Wilfred was quick to explain, "Fighting for Gold, Glory, and God makes for a tempting offer to a good knight. However, I pledged to the king of Zandar that I will train up knights that can protect Zandar. Hence I cannot make a decision to join the Sword Brethren's crusade so hastily."

Ivan protested, "But Sir Wilfred, you could be winning glory and fame if you went with the Sword Brethren."

Sir Wilfred murmured, "That is true. But I am a knight. When I pledge my loyalty, it is for life. You will find in your life that there will be many banners to fight under, but there will be only a few good leaders to fight for. Choose your band wisely and you will consider yourself deeply blessed."

Ivan had to ask, "Sir Wilfred, did you fight with such a band?"

It was then when a messenger rode up to them, saying: "A band of three hundred Spartans is advancing upon us. They are clamouring for the head of Sir Wilfred for heresy or they will put Zandar to the sword."

Sir Wilfred mulled it over carefully, "Among our foes are the Greeks who count among their ancestors, the most famous Leonidas. It is unusual for them to come this far. Who is at the head of their party?"

The messenger replied, "A Venetian."

* * *

Shelby ran up to him, then implored him to join the Power Rangers. She had even vouched for them.

However, Ivan was reluctant. He had not seen for himself how worthy were these Rangers.

She got exasperated and walked away from him. It gave Ivan some pause. Shelby made a valid point. He prejudged them even before they showed their mettle. At the very least, he should see for himself what kind of men they were. Then he shouted after her "Milady!"

(A/N: Do leave a comment if you liked it or hated it or thought that something was wrong with the story in whatever way possible, I will be happy to entertain them)


	2. Chapter 2

_Three weeks after the events of "One more Energem"_

Ivan wondered to himself, "Was this once the fair town of Istria Triste? Where men dug out the riches of the earth and made them into wondrous creations? Was this the place where I had my blade hammered? What happened to the people who lived and died here?"

Instead of the prosperous mining town from that he had expected to find, Ivan found himself staring at a landfill.

Kendall was beside him and she consulted her tablet.

"I'm afraid so, Ivan. This is the correct place."

Ivan swallowed hard. This was Zandar, but this was not his Zandar.

Sir Ivan of Zandar, the Gold Ranger was supposed to help Keeper and Kendall find the last two Energems, but he decided that he wanted to take a break and return to Zandar and find out what happened after he was gone for eight hundred years.

Kendall was concerned, and she warned him, "You have been gone a long time. You would not recognize anything if you were to go back. If memory serves me, Koda didn't cope very well to realising that he couldn't find his home anymore."

But Ivan insisted. He wanted to know, he had to know. Kendall reluctantly agreed to accompany him on this trip.

They reached out to a fellow Power Ranger, Prince Philip III of Zandar. Prince Philip was incredibly generous, he flew them in without a second's hesitation and offered the help of all the historians and geologists that Zandar had to offer. With their help, they tracked down many places that Ivan used to live.

Kendall was rightfully worried about Ivan. Even though Ivan said nothing about his feelings, there was this sense of loss and confusion etched on his face. There was a highway built over his birth village. The castle where he served the House of Zandar as a knight was reduced to rubble in World War II when Rommel's forces tried to dislodge the Allied forces in 1943. It was left in complete ruin. All vestiges of Zandar's past was gone.

Ivan had that sinking feeling in his heart again. He recognised nothing. Nothing at all. This was Zandar, but this was not his Zandar. Something gnawed at him from the inside. Maybe he should not have tried to come home. Maybe he should not have tried to forcefully find a home where there is none.

Perhaps it was not a good idea after all.

"Ivan!"

Tucked away in a corner, by some green field, there was a small cemetery. Tall grass covered all the tombstones. Kendall was examining each and every tombstone in detail.

"Wait. Look here. 'Here lies, Sir Wilfred of Ivanhoe'. Did you know him? This person died almost eight hundred years ago."

Kendall was nearly startled when she turned and saw Ivan's eyes bearing hints of tears.

Ivan breathed deeply and wiped his eyes. "Yes. Ms Morgan. When I was a page, he was the knight who taught me everything I know"

Kendall was silent. Ivan closed his eyes and began to recount what had happened.

* * *

Istria Triste was under siege. Against the foreign forces mustered by the Venetian, the Zandarians were outnumbered fifteen to one. The enemy troops have surrounded them for sixty days. They intend to weaken the Zandarians into surrendering.

However, the Zandarians will not yield. If they fail, the town will fall and Zandar's capital will fall as well. But the long siege was taking its toll on them. They had depleted the town's granaries and the Zandarians were forced to ration crumbs of bread. Some men had resorted to hunting rats for food. At least they had not run out of water.

Ivan had only a crumb of bread for breakfast and he had been starving for a few weeks. He wanted to drop his sword and sleep, but he knew that if he did so, he might not wake up from that sleep. He followed Sir Wilfred as they distributed rations to the Zandarians.

Ivan could not help noticing that they only had five loaves left.

"Sir Ken, give this loaf to your men. They have to stretch it out for the day."

Sir Ken grimaced as he looked at the stale loaf of bread in his hand.

"Are the Rangers coming soon Sir Wilfred? We cannot hold out forever. There is some talk of desertion already."

"I am counting on you to strengthen their hearts. Our enemy will never let us surrender. They will execute all of us and put Zandar to the sword along with our families and children. But take heart Sir Ken. With any luck, Marquis Rex will bring his Rangers to our aid any day now."

Sir Ken nodded grimly and returned to his post with the loaf of bread in his hand.

Sir Wilfred watched Sir Ken leave and let out a broken sigh. He ran his fingers through his greying hair and breathed deeply.

Ivan watched all this and felt his own heart sinking, "We are going to lose, aren't we? There is nothing we can do but die right?"

Sir Wilfred gave Ivan a worn-out look, "Steel yourself. We have sent word to Marquis Rex. He will surely come to our aid with the Rangers."

Ivan murmured, "It has been sixty days already. Did he leave us to die?"

"Ivan, I know it feels like an eternity and it may seem like help is not coming. Look at me, I am fighting for it even though I am a foreigner. Marquis Rex? He is a born-and-bred Zandarian. You must believe that he will muster Rangers out of love for his countrymen."

There was a long silence between them.

"Sir Wilfred. If I might ask. This is my Zandar, but this is not your Zandar. Why do you fight for it?"

Sir Wilfred paused to lick his cracked lips.

"Ivan, I swore to serve the House of Zandar. I am a knight and I will do my duty upon my honour as a knight."

"Sir Wilfred, why would you let yourself suffer or die for honour's sake? You could have left and returned to your home country."

"That is what a knight is. Honourable. Honour is not just looking good or feeling good. Honour is good to the very last hour and in the deepest pit without hope, without witness, without reward."

Sir Wilfred pressed a crumb of bread into Ivan's hands. It was his ration

"Have this, strengthen yourself with hope. The fight's not over yet. You'll make a fine knight yet."

* * *

Ivan's face was solemn. Kendall watched him silently.

His voice cracked. "He was the most honourable knight that I know."


	3. Chapter 3

After Ivan and Kendall put some flowers on Sir Wilfred's grave near the landfill where Istria Triste once stood, Kendall could not help but notice that there was this heavy silence that Ivan carried around him.

Kendall probed, "So what happened to the siege?"

Ivan closed his eyes and began to recount what happened.

The siege had lasted till Christmas. However, the sudden cold forced the invading forces to withdraw and they wintered in the occupied towns of Tronik and Zagir.

It was a chance for the Zandarians. With the siege lifted, wagons from the capital came to Istria Triste with much-needed provisions. The Zandarians cheered. They unloaded sacks of flour, raisin cakes, dried fruit, four casks of mead and a whole ham. They had been starving for so long that the sight of food made all the men weep.

The men sang hymns and carols as they gorged themselves on the food and embraced each other tightly. They cracked jokes over the fires and shared stories of their hometowns.

Ivan stuffed his mouth with a raisin cake. He was about to chew on a loaf of bread before Sir Ken pressed a letter sealed with the royal seal.

"Take this to the commanding officer. It's a letter from the king."

Ivan immediately took it and ran to Sir Wilfred. He was in the war room that they set up in a chapel, planning for the impending attack in spring. Once the cold ended, the invaders will be back, but Sir Wilfred was counting on the reinforcements from Zandar to repel them and end the fighting for good.

"Merry Christmas, Sir Wilfred. A letter from the King has come for you."

Sir Wilfred took it and perused it. He sat in the pew in deep thought. For a moment, Ivan saw a flash of resignation across Sir Wilfred's face.

"Help is not coming from Zandar."

Those words struck hard at Ivan. Ivan felt rooted to the ground in fear. All their plans, all their strategies and tactics hinged on the reinforcements coming to relieve them.

"None at all? But we can't hold Istria Triste! They will overrun us!"

As if Sir Wilfred read his mind, he said, "No. It is the king's orders. We must buy the capital time to shore up its defences. They cannot send help. We are to delay them and fight to the very last men. We must die so that Zandar lives."

Ivan swallowed hard. It seemed all the harder to swallow as he heard the men outside bursting into song and Christmas hymns.

Indignation arose within him. They were the sacrificial lambs. No one has come, and no one will come for them.

Ivan slammed his fist on the pew.

Sir Wilfred spoke grimly, "The men are in festive cheer. We will not tell them about this. They must not lose morale. If we lose all hope, we will lose."

Immediately, Sir Wilfred cast the letter into the glowing hearth and watched the flames devour the letter.

"Sir!"

Sir Wilfred turned to Ivan, with a stern face.

"I am counting on your discretion, Ivan."

Ivan felt a deep revulsion. Everything was so wrong.

It was at this time, Sir Ken walked up to them, asking, "Did the king say when will the reinforcements come?"

Sir Wilfred paused for a moment.

Ivan spoke first with faltering lips, "Help will come, Sir Ken. Help will come."

Sir Ken raised an eyebrow. Suddenly there was a shout. They dashed to the ramparts to see what was happening.

Hundreds of shivering peasants were at their gates, begging for entry. It was a stratagem by the enemy.

Even though they could not see it clearly, there were shapes of the horsemen shrouded in the fog. They could hear the men-at-arms marching through the frozen ground. There were too many for them to fight.

Sir Ken cursed them. "Cowards! They use the lives of the poor to breach our defence! We cannot open the gate!"

Sir Wilfred stopped him.

"No! Let the peasants in. We will not let them be slaughtered by the enemy."

Reluctantly, Sir Ken blew the horn by his side. It let out two short blasts.

The gates swung open, letting the fleeing peasants in. They heard a horn blasting from the enemy and the rumbling of horses charging.

"Hurry! To your positions!"

There was a sudden hiss. Sir Wilfred let out a pained cry and fell on one knee. An arrow protruded from his chest. Ivan immediately sprang into action and dragged Sir Wilfred down the wall.

Sir Wilfred clasped a bloody hand over Ivan's shaking hands and spoke with shuddering breath. "Don't let the light die. Sir Ivan of Zandar."

Sir Wilfred drew his blade and knighted Ivan.

Ivan nodded. Everything was clear to him. Even though Zandar turned her back on them, he will not shirk his duty.

Ivan drew his sword, the reflected light of the sword splayed all over his face.

"On my honour as a knight, I will fight to protect the house of Zandar for my whole life."

Kendall drew a sharp breath.

"Did Sir Wilfred die?"

Ivan had a thoughtful look in his eyes.

"Everyone dies, Lady Morgan."

"But you survived the siege."

"The siege? Yes, that was our most desperate moment. I was a young knight at that time. I only knew that these odds were impossible. I was so sure that we were going to die. There was so much desperation and we were racing against time to hold off the enemy."

"What happened?"

Ivan had a strange look on his face.

"Then the Rangers arrived."


	4. Chapter 4

Kendall consulted her tablet computer.

"The battle of Istria Triste was never recorded in Zandarian's history. No mention of Rangers or of a siege."

Ivan paused as he considered what Kendall said.

A wave of sadness washed over him.

The terrible bloodshed was not even worth a footnote in history. So much suffering and tragedy were lost in the mists of time.

"I remember this: This was where we prepared to make our last stand."

Ivan pointed to a weathered mine shaft, long depleted of the iron that the miners could extract.

He felt for that brief moment, his breath becoming haggard.

* * *

Ivan grunted in agony as he dragged a wounded knight with him through the tunnels of the mine. The man was twice his size while Ivan was just a gangly teenager. The poor man had been knocked out by a heavy blow while defending the inner gates against the invaders.

Every time he pulled at the man's collar, he felt his own limbs stretch to the point where they wanted to give in. Every time he felt like giving up, he refused.

Ivan was tasked to get as many of the injured to the safety of the mines as he could. If he left the man and ran for his life, he will most certainly die. Ivan will not let that happen.

After what felt like an eternity of dragging a heavy motionless body through an endlessly dark and serpentine tunnel, Ivan saw the pinprick of candlelight where the elderly, women, children, and the wounded huddled together.

There he saw Sir Wilfred, who was pale as a sheet. He had suffered an arrow through his chest and the physician was treating his wounds. Sir Ken was beside him, giving him a report on the current battle.

"The town has fallen."

"How many soldiers do we have?"

"We are left with seven men who can fight. They swore they will fight all the way and never surrender. I myself will join them shortly."

Sir Wilfred looked sad.

"Fight with honour, Sir Ken"

They clasped their hands in brotherly love.

Sir Ken nodded grimly and drew his blade and went to the entrance of the mine.

Sir Wilfred watched him go with tears streaming down his face. Ivan felt a dread in his heart. He knew that this was the last time he will see the good Sir Ken.

Sir Ken will not succeed against the enemy. He will be fighting without hope, without reward, without a witness. But Sir Ken will fight for what is right and he will keep fighting even with fallen brothers resting at his feet. He will fight as long as he could draw breath and as long as his arm could hold a weapon. He will fight without hope for a glorious homecoming. He will fight knowing all this and he will never surrender.

Ivan clenched his eyes shut and breathed deeply, willing away his sorrow.

Then they heard the clashing of blades, screams and a deathly silence.

The dismay must have shown on his face. Sir Wilfred came up to him and clapped him on the shoulder saying, "Be strong and courageous. We will make it out of this yet. This fight is not over."

Sir Wilfred doubled over in pain. He propped himself up and drew his sword.

Ivan drew his blade in return but Sir Wilfred stopped him.

Ivan protested, "I am a knight also. I will fight by your side and die with glory."

Their eyes met and for a brief moment, Ivan thought that their eyes were one and the same.

"There are many knights in this world, but a true knight is so much more. It is a code of honour. A willing sacrifice. A faith that is broken, trampled, betrayed but still very much alive."

Even though Sir Wilfred was gravely wounded, he had drawn himself to his full height.

"Have faith, Ivan of Zandar. You are not meant to die here today and you will be one of the finest knights that Zandar have."

There was the sound of slow clapping.

"Indeed. such brave words from a dying man. But you could not be more wrong, Sir Wilfred. After I grind your body into the dust before I sack Zandar of all its riches"

It was the Venetian. He sauntered over to them, alone and cocky.

"I have marched my forces into Istria Triste just to crush you, Sir Wilfred. I will savour every bit of your defeat as I have imagined it after all these years. My only regret is that you are wounded and I would have liked to defeat the Knight after knights in a fair fight"

Sir Wilfred raised his blade.

"Amazing. Everything you said was so wrong. We are pressed but not crushed. We may have suffered losses but we are not defeated. As for this wound... well your shame will be greater for losing to an old man on his deathbed."

The Venetian snarled. Sir Wilfred lunged with his sword. The Venetian laughed and parried the blow. With a deft flick of his blade, he knocked the sword from Sir Wilfred's hands. It felt to the ground with a clatter.

"Is this the famed crusader Sir Wilfred who stands before me? The first knight who charged the Saracens at Arsuf, and overthrew the walls of Zara? I see only an old man, too feeble to fight me properly."

The Venetian picked up Sir Wilfred's blade and whistled in delight.

"The star-forged blade that drunk the blood of a thousand heathens! If one were to believe the rumours, this blade was first forged in Camelot for Sir Galahad, the Pure Knight."

The Venetian levelled the blade at Sir Wilfred's chest.

"I'll cut you down you with your own blade. How ironic."

The Venetian raised the sword and brought it down upon Sir Wilfred's head.

Ivan drew his own sword and crossed swords with the Venetian, blocking the Venetian's attack in one fluid motion.

"Hands off the sword, you knave. Only a true knight carries that."

The Venetian sneered and dropped Sir Wilfred's sword and drew his own sword.

"You will pay for that with your life, boy."

"I am no boy. I am Ivan of Zandar. A knight who is sworn to serve and protect Zandar with my life."

"Impudent fool!"

The Venetian rained blow after blow while Ivan parried blow after blow.

The Venetian lunged with a thrust. Ivan darted past the Venetian and picked up Sir Wilfred's sword with his free hand.

With two swords in hand, Ivan brandished them against the Venetian.

Steel clashed against steel and Ivan slashed at his foe with two swords. Where one slash ended, another began, sparking a continuous chain of unending strikes. The Venetian parried and blocked Ivan's attacks with expert ease.

Frustrated, Ivan roared. "I am Ivan of Zandar and on my honour as a knight of Zandar, you shall not pass!"

With Sir Wilfred's blade on his left and his own sword on his right, he swung hard at the Venetian with a devastating blow. The Venetian raised his shield to defend himself. The impact shattered his own blade and left Sir Wilfred's blade soared through the air and clattered on the ground.

Ivan was weaponless and very much in shock. The Venetian let out a maniacal laugh and knocked Ivan down with a vicious strike.

"After I have defeated you, know this: All of Zandar will burn and I will wipe the name of Zandar from the face of the earth."

Suddenly there was a whistling sound and the Venetian raised his shield. An arrow had been firmly planted on it

"Not if I have anything to say about it."

Ivan was startled. Beside him, there was a hooded figure in green and silver. The hooded figure wore a pin with the crest of Zandar on it. He was like a ghost who materialized out of the blue. No one had seen him appear until now.

The hooded fitted another arrow into his bow.

"You were too arrogant, Venetian. While you were here fighting with Ivan, my Rangers fell upon your men and scattered them to the four winds. Leave now and you may yet escape with your life."

The Venetian screeched in rage and raised his sword.

The ranger fired his arrow. It grazed the cheek of the Venetian, which gave him pause.

"Venetian, that was your final warning shot. Before you stands the Ranger-General Marquis Rex. High commander of the rangers of Zandar. And as long as I am watching and I swear by my honour, not one drop of Zandarian blood will be spilt this day."

The Venetian backed away with a look of twisted hate in his face.

"You may have won. But I will avenge myself!"

With that, the Venetian turned around and ran.

Ivan felt pure relief surge through his body. Sir Wilfred let out a cheer. Then there was a loud cheer from within the mine. They were saved. The enemy was defeated.

The siege of Istria Triste was broken.

* * *

Ivan later learned that Zandar managed to hold Istria Triste for another hundred more years. Since then it exchanged hands many times over. The Mongols invaded and tore through Istria Triste which nearly destroyed Zandar in the process. It often changed hands between the Ottomans, the Byzantines, the Hapsburgs and then it was taken over by the Nazi's in WWII.

Ivan stood there, his eyes were far away and deep in thought.

Kendall said nothing. This had also happened to Koda.

How does one make meaning of this sense of displacement. Ivan had lived and suffered through terrible wars that no one around him remembers. He could only feel so alone, having lived a life that is shared by no one and known by no one.

Kendall reached out. She hesitated for a moment and then she patted Ivan gently on his back, trying to be reassuring.

"Thank you Ms. Morgan. You are very kind."


	5. Chapter 5

When Ivan and Kendall returned to Amber beach, there was very little time to discuss what they did at Zandar. Just when they defeated the evil Sledge, there is a new enemy to fight: Heckyl.

One day, Kendall was CC'd in an email with a picture of the tombstone sent to Ivan by Zandar's historians. Kendall found out that Ivan had enlisted the help of Prince Philip III's historians to exhume Sir Wilfred's remains and place it among the graves of Zandarian knights.

The tombstone was extremely weathered, and the carvings were nearly unreadable. But apparently, Ivan knew what it was immediately. He wrote back quickly saying:

 _Sir Collins,_

 _The carving on the tombstone is an epitaph that I wrote for Sir Wilfred after I buried him. If memory serves, it should read, "Here lies Sir Wilfred, beloved mentor, the knight after knights. He fought the good fight, and he died where he stood."_

 _Warmest regards,_

 _Sir Ivan of Zandar_

[break]

"Sir Ken was a good and brave Zandarian. He fought the good fight, and he died fighting against impossible odds and all by himself. The rangers remember you," Marquis Rex said grimly.

The Rangers bowed their heads as they lowered the coffin into the grave.

Every single of the defenders gave their lives to defend Istria Triste. All of the defenders gave their lives, except Ivan and Sir Wilfred. At this thought, Ivan felt his stomach knot up.

It was in vain. Sir Ken and his men did not succeed against the enemy. They gave their lives to defend Istria Triste, without hope, without reward, without a single witness.

Marquis Rex raised his voice and addressed everyone present at the funeral.

"These are the brave men who died so that others may live. Rangers, remember their bravery. "

However, Ivan knew the truth. He and Sir Wilfred lied to all the defenders of Istria Triste, promising them that help will come. Ivan knew it was a doomed effort when the King asked them to sacrifice their lives to buy time for the defenders in the capital to organise their defences.

In the end, it was for nothing, for they could not save Istria Triste from another attack. Even though the Rangers routed the Venetian, the Venetian regrouped his forces at the shrine of Wanda the Widow. The Marquis' scouts have reported that they are preparing for another assault which could happen in at least three months time. They merely delayed the inevitable.

It was clear to Ivan that they could not hope to hold Istria Triste. The Venetian's forces outnumbered theirs, at least five to one, they were running out of rations, and there were far too many civilians who could be collateral damage.

Sir Wilfred and Marquis Rex had argued over how they ought to proceed. Marquis Rex wanted to draft every civilian into a militia and resist the invaders. But Sir Wilfred overruled him and ordered the whole town and its residents to be evacuated to Zandar.

Ivan could barely fight back his helpless tears. They fought so desperately and at such a terrible cost. In the end, they had to give Istria Triste up to save their lives. He knew Sir Wilfred made the right decision to save as many lives as possible. Ivan hated every bit of that decision.

Marquis Rex continued, "We will do our duty as rangers to help the citizenry flee the invaders. But I swear upon the throne of the Almighty and the throne of Zandar, we will make him pay for invading our beloved Zandar. An eye for an eye. A life for a life."

The rangers echoed, "For Zandar!"

Those words by Marquis Rex lit a fire under Ivan.

After the funeral, Ivan went down on his knees before the Marquis, saying: "Marquis. I wish to join you in the fight against the Venetian."

Marquis Rex studied him with a shrewd look, "You're Sir Wilfred's page, aren't you? How old are you son?"

"Fourteen, Sir. But I am not a page anymore. I am a knight."

"It's a pity. I have seen the way you fight. If you were sixteen, you would make a fine Ranger. But you should return to Sir Wilfred and complete your training."

"But Sir -"

"I will hear nothing more of this. Sir Wilfred is your immediate superior. I cannot take you from him without his leave. We are leaving tomorrow morning. I intend to strike them when they are least expecting it."

Ivan said nothing. He knew what he had to do.

That night, Ivan went to Sir Wilfred's lodgings. His heart was heavy, but his will was resolute.

Sir Wilfred was changing his bandages by himself. Sir Wilfred's face contorted with pain. His snowy-white hair was dripping with chest wound that Sir Wilfred sustained was sewn up by the healer, but the bandages needed frequent changing, and it brought great pain to Sir Wilfred.

"Help me, Ivan," he rasped weakly.

Ivan immediately helped him dress his wounds.

As Ivan changed the dressings, Sir Wilfred tried to joke, "Old age must be catching up with me. If I were sixty years younger, I would have shrugged off this wound and went straight to battle the next day."

Ivan did not laugh. "Sir Wilfred. You are eighty years old. You could have died."

"But I did not. It seems I still have one last fight left in me... " Sir Wilfred quipped, but he saw Ivan's stricken face, and he said quietly, "When I have finally fought that good fight, I will die where I stand..."

There was a long pause. Ivan and Sir Wilfred's eyes met. For a moment, Ivan thought he saw his own eyes looking back at him, but these were the eyes of a person who had grown too old seeing far too much.

Sir Wilfred probed gently, "You have something on your mind. Is it serious?"

Ivan breathed deeply and steeled his heart.

"Sir Wilfred, I am leaving with Marquis Rex to fight the Venetian and avenge Sir Ken."

Sir Wilfred had a dismayed look on his face.

"Ivan, there's so much you have to learn. Be a proper knight first. Leave this to -"

Ivan paused. He found it too unbearable to look at his mentor in the face and began staring at his shoes.

"I am old enough Sir Wilfred. I am a knight. After all that I have seen, I am ready."

Ivan found himself staring resolutely at the ceiling, determined to avoid the look of dismay on Sir Wilfred's face.

"I am not asking for your permission; I will go even if it is against your orders... I ask instead for your forgiveness and blessing."

Silence fell between them. Ivan turned to go.

"Ivan, wait. Not like this." Sir Wilfred croaked.

Ivan turned back.

"I want you to have this."

In his hands was a sword wrapped in black leather.

Now, Ivan's blade broke when he fought the Venetian in the mines of Istria Triste. However, Sir Wilfred collected the broken pieces and had it fixed by a Zandarian swordsmith.

According to the traditions of the Zandarian swordsmiths of old, they sang the names of all warriors as they remade Ivan's broken blade.

These are the names of the warriors they sang as they wrought the sword: Zandar the Zealot, he was the founding King of Zandar. With his sword, he slew eight hundred in a single battle. He was the chief and most famous of Zandarians. After him was Yeltsin the Youthful, he broke past four hundred men to reach a well to slake his thirst. He was ninety-four at that time, but he could still raise his spear and was greatly praised by the womenfolk of Zandar. After him was Xavier the Xenial, when he hosted his wedding, two hundred of his enemies came to kill him, but he subdued them all and forgave their trespasses before inviting those who surrendered to his wedding.

There were more like Wanda the Widow, Victor the Victorious, Ulysses the Undefeated, Timon the Tall, Simone the Severe, Randall the Ripper, Queer Quintus, Plagued Percival, Orthodox Oliver, Nasty Norman, Merciful Michael, Lisping Lemuel, but their histories were unknown to all except the Zandarian swordsmiths. But Ivan knew some, like Ken the Keen, who defended the weak and innocent at the siege of Istria Triste and Jarl the Jouster, who fought off bandits with a jouster's lance.

When they finally overlaid a pattern of gold on the hilt, they sang Ivan's name. Then when the steel had cooled, they wrapped it in leather and gave it to Sir Wilfred.

Sir Wilfred presented the sword to him, saying, "I charge you. Never be callous, for all the skies will darken when a knight loses his heart. Never be craven, for all the lands will wither when a knight abandons his duty. Always be chivalrous, for all that is required of you is to do justice, love mercy and to walk humbly in the sight of men and God."

Ivan received the sword solemnly. He knew what he needed to do. He unsheathed the blade and pressed his forehead against the hilt.

Then Ivan said, "I swear it."

Sir Wilfred murmured, "And I stand as a witness before man and God."

Ivan thought he must have imagined it. But he thought he saw a look of pride and resignation in Sir Wilfred's face.

Sir Wilfred embraced Ivan and said, "You carry with you a long lineage of honourable knights. Remember to walk tall, my dear Ivan."


	6. Epilogue

Unknown to Ivan, there was something else stirring.

Not too far from Istria Triste, there was a forest. In that forest, there was a hole in a knoll. In that hole, there was a monster. A monster that had roamed the earth for millions of years.

The monster was roused from its sleep.

"I smell an Energem."

Author's Note:

There will be a new storyline coming in April. Knight of Zandar: No Honour


End file.
